


Feel My Hands (I'm Not Shaking)

by deathlys



Category: Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Fluffy, Gen, Holding Hands, Multi, SHIELD, Skin, Touch, skin on skin, walk the earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 02:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathlys/pseuds/deathlys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All that time, their hands remain steady.</p><p>It's hard to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel My Hands (I'm Not Shaking)

**Author's Note:**

> Written during "Each Step (Each Breath)". There are mentions of "torture" (which I don't believe is a very accurate description of what actually went on...it's more like they suffered minor beatings--which as superheroes, is pretty normal--during their infiltration of whatever agency) in this fic.

After a very tiring imprisonment-slash-infiltration of some anti-government agency, the exhausted team is picked up by one of SHIELD's helicopters. This means they're all crammed into the tiny space behind the pilot, squished together and practically sitting on each other's laps.    
  
All of them have been threatened and tortured (to an extent) before, and today adds another bullet to their collective list. "Are you guys okay?" Steve asks hoarsely as Tony rests his head on the captain's shoulder, the red not-quite-bruise on his cheekbone showing up garishly in the bright sun. It's just about to begin setting, and casts a golden glow about their faces.   
  
"It wasn't that bad," Peter says. "Just an average superhero beating. We get hit fighting all the time." There's a cut on his thigh from some window shrapnel, but he acts as though it isn't there.   
  
"We're fine, Cap," Clint reassures him, shifting as Natasha leans sleepily on his side. "Just tired. It was a long mission."   
  
Steve nods quietly. He's just making sure his team is okay, and they all understand. He knows they do the same in their heads.   
  
There's only a couple feet between the opposite sides of the vehicle, and Bruce silently reaches across to hold Steve's hand in his. Tony's is already in the supersoldier's lap, and their fingers intertwine. Warm skin on skin on skin. Connected.   
  
The other see this, and Natasha blinks her sleepy eyes. "Hey," she says quietly.   
  
Tony and Thor wrap warm palms together, and Thor takes Clint's hand in his from across the tiny aisle of air between them. Clint and Natasha's fingers are already laced, and the redheaded assassin takes Peter's in her right hand.   
  
Peter smiles. He and Bruce join theirs together, finishing the circle, and they all glance around at each other. The sun draws dramatic shadows across their features, and Peter's arms tremble slightly.    
  
However, his grip remains firm.   
  
Tony can hear his own breathing. IT's loud, only covered up by the whooshing of wind and the whirring helicopter blades above. Still, it's too loud, echoing in his ears.   
  
Bruce's gaze is steady and observant, like always. "I don't know what to say." Both his eyes and voice are penetrating, worn and just barely hoarse. "But I'm glad we're still alive."   
  
Thor nods his agreement. Tony would say "Amen" if he were that kind of person.    
  
Peter speaks up. "If you guys weren't alive," he says honestly, "and I was, I would kill myself."   
  
"Don't say that," Clint responds immediately.   
  
"You're so young," Tony starts at almost the same time. "I can do that; I'm older, I have less to give--but you're still in high school, you can't--"   
  
Steve squeezes his hand. "Don't even  _think_ that, any of you. Never think you're expendable, never think you're less important to the team than someone else." His gaze shifts from the floor to the faces around him, and even though he's not really the team leader--they're all equals, as he's just explained--they can see how it's obvious that he would be if they had one.   
  
Natasha shakes her head in disbelief, chuckling low and quiet. "I've had partners before," she says. "Great partners. But I never thought I would be part of a team like this one day."   
  
"Me neither." Peter swallows. "This is a dream. A really scary dream, sometimes, but . . . it's crazy. I don't--somehow it manages to be real."   
  
They listen to the sound of the helicopter for a few more minutes. There is less than half an hour before they will arrive back at the Tower, but they keep their hands linked together.   
  
Natasha closes her eyes, relaxing in the security of being in the presence of her teammates. She falls asleep with her hands still in Clint and Peter's. Her barely audible, slow breathing is visible in the rhythmic way her chest rises and falls. She looks peaceful.    
  
The light inside the vehicle soon fades into an orange-pink. Natasha's hair glows with the effect.   
  
Steve is almost afraid to take his eyes off his teammates. His eyes dart around, lingering on the familiar faces. Bruce's gaze is calming as it shifts slowly from person to person. Thor's presence is a reassuring one, grounded and strong.   
  
Clint feels lucky--blessed--to have people like this. He's never had people he can put so much trust into, so much faith. And have so many people able to trust him back.    
  
When they close their eyes, their hands--their touch--is still there. Ever-present, almost, and somehow they manage to stay that way until they land. All that time, their hands remain steady. It's hard to let go. 


End file.
